


What Twenty Gets You

by ChallengeAcceptedPankratz (CassLikesFic)



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Against a Wall, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Sex, Bottom Jaskier | Dandelion, Dirty Talk, Enthusiastic Consent, Historical Roleplay, It's a mixed bag what can I say happy April 1, Loving Husbands, M/M, Manhandling, Older Jaskier, Oral Sex, Power Dynamics, Praise Kink, Sex Work Roleplay, Top Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-01
Updated: 2020-04-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 16:46:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23430400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassLikesFic/pseuds/ChallengeAcceptedPankratz
Summary: "You're pretty enough, in that rough country way. Turnip harvest not come in as well as you wanted?""I'm not some dumb farm boy-" And there was a flare of spirit, behind those soft grin eyes, hot anger that promised something truly tempting. Not just a short, whimpering, whining fuck."Darling, I wasn't the one selling my arse with schoolboy manners for cut rates, was I?" Julian narrowed his eyes slightly, letting his mouth take on a crueler twist. His fingers tightened slightly on that strong jaw. "So for that money, you'll be what I fucking well tell you to, won't you?"He was shoved back, and that coiled strength really shouldn't have made Julian's blood run hot, but if his blood did anything it should have, he'd still be entertaining waspish young ladies at a dull party with a warm drink in his hand. He was pinned up against his own wall by strong hands, green eyes flashing. "$20 gets you my mouth, hands, cock, and ass until two in the morning, and you'll fucking call me Geralt while you get your money's worth, not farm boy. Are we clear about what that money is and isn't getting you?"
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 17
Kudos: 306





	What Twenty Gets You

**Author's Note:**

> April Fools!
> 
> I tried to write a straight laced Historical AU based on [this gifset combo](https://poisonousbuttercup.tumblr.com/post/612613306457473024/when-these-two-gifsets-crossed-my-dash-at-the-same) but my plans went completely awry. I hope you enjoy these two dorks trying to stay in character and utterly failing.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading! You're all lovely, lovely people and I cherish every one of your keysmashes.

Julian was on his way back to his flat. Unfortunately, alone, but the party was a dull affair with duller company. The sort of company who would linger on for weeks, pawing and fawning. Or, the more pleasant sort, who could be tempted into a back room for an hour's delightfully carnal pleasure, and then be counted on never to speak to him again due to the overwhelming _shame_ of their actions.

Julian liked the second kind better. They made the most delicious sounds when they fucked, and sometimes left bruises.

A block away from home, Julian felt a hand brush his sleeve, a young man leaning against the alley wall.

"Looking for...um. Company, mister?" Julian would no more pay for company from a back alley near his apartment than he would eat a meal off the street outside of it. But he cocked his head in mild interest, his hat shadowing his face. He could always see what the man looked like before he told him to fuck out of his neighborhood or he'd call the police.

"I might be."

Julian was rather unprepared for a country adonis with schoolboy manners to step out into the light of the street, wisps of hair escaping from a neat pale plait down his back. He was worrying a worn brown corduroy flat cap between his fingers.

"...would you be looking for-" He hesitated over the words, wetting plush lips before eyeing Julian with wide eyes, framed with dark lashes. "...private. Company?"

"How much?" Julian snapped, more sharply than he intended to, and watched those soft doe eyes widen in shock. "...five a throw. Fifteen 'til...'til midnight." Julian snorted, pulled out his billfold, and tucked a crisp twenty in the boy's breast pocket. Well, he wasn't a boy, not with those muscles and the pale glitter of gray stubble painted over his strong jaw, but he was certainly boyish enough for Julian's purposes. 

"Upstairs." Julian said simply, gesturing with his head. "The extra five is to not watch the clock. Don't worry darling, you can lie back and think of...your family's farm the whole time, if you like." The other man inhaled sharply, as though reacting to a hard slap. Close enough to the mark to work with.

Julian unlocked the door to the flat, hitting the lightswitch and studying the boy in the less forgiving yellow glare. _And he really was going to need to find out his name, wasn't he, can't keep calling him The Boy, capitalized, in his mind..._ His hand gripped the boy's chin, turning his face into the light. "You're pretty enough, in that rough country way. Turnip harvest not come in as well as you wanted?"

"I'm not some dumb farm boy-" And _there_ was a flare of spirit, behind those soft eyes, hot anger that promised something truly tempting. Not just a short, whimpering, whining fuck. 

"Darling, I wasn't the one selling my arse with schoolboy manners for cut rates, was I?" Julian narrowed his eyes slightly, letting his mouth take on a crueler twist. His fingers tightened slightly on that strong jaw. "So for that money, you'll be what I fucking well tell you to, won't you?" 

He was shoved back, and that coiled strength really shouldn't have made Julian's blood run hot, but if his blood did anything it _should_ have, he'd still be entertaining waspish young ladies at a dull party with a warm drink in his hand. He was pinned up against his own wall by strong hands, green eyes flashing. "$20 gets you my mouth, hands, cock, and ass until two in the morning, and you'll fucking call me _Geralt_ while you get your money's worth, not farm boy. _Are we clear about what that money is and isn't getting you?_ "

"We're very fucking clear. Mouth first, then, _darling_." Julian purred the endearment near Geralt's mouth, tongue darting out to touch his bottom lip. "On your knees."

Geralt went without complaint, turning that shockingly sweet face up to Julian. He couldn’t resist, thumbing open that plush bottom lip and watching the blush creep up Geralt’s neck. Julian wondered if it was from that hot flash of anger and pride, or something else stirring under his skin.

“Have you done this before?”

“Not for pay.”

“You’ll get plenty of practice with a mouth like that.” Julian commented, his voice gone breathy and low. “You’re as pretty as a church angel.” 

“Hard to picture you in a church.” Geralt husked out, slowly undoing Julian’s fly.

“It’s expected.” Julian drawled lazily, his breath catching in his throat when Geralt licked over the slick head of his cock, then teased his foreskin, his tongue shockingly expert. “ _Fuck-”_ Julian was ready to surge forward, explore the depths of that warm velvet mouth before Geralt sat back on his heels, wetting his lips and looking up at him expectantly.

“What do I call you?”

“Julian.” He hissed out his name with a choked groan as Geralt curled one large, rough hand around his length, jerking in a quick rhythm that made his blood boil. 

“You do a lot of what’s expected, Julian?” Geralt’s tone was placid and unhurried, as though they were walking together down a garden path.

“When it’s- fuck- unavoidable.” He wound that soft pale braid around his hand, tugged sharply, groaned low in his throat. “-mouth. Your mouth. I want your fucking _mouth-_ ”

“ _Beg_.” Geralt growled low, then grinned up at Julian with a wicked expression. If the bait for his hook was his sweet face and soft manners, the barb was that wicked sin falling from his lips. Growled out in tones that brooked no argument. “Come on, rich boy. Beg me to put your fancy cock in my mouth.”

“Oh, fuck-” Julian whispered hoarsely, feeling the words as a shock that ran up his spine. He let his head fall back against the wall, his hands tightening in Geralt’s hair. Geralt’s grip on his cock grew rougher, his thumb brushing the sensitive underside of the head as he squeezed painfully hard. 

Julian saw white behind his eyelids, and was flooded with a hot rush of embarrassment as he spent over Geralt’s fingers. Geralt’s other hand kept his hips cruelly pinned to the wall as he jerked helplessly in his grip.

“For all your snotty words and sneering looks, you’re not that hard to please. _Julian._ ” Geralt said calmly, lapping up the mess on his fingers like a cat with cream.

“Fuck, fuck-” Julian muttered, chest heaving.

“Say thank you.” He stared down at the man, wide eyed at the low rumble.

“Wh-what?”

“You’re rich, you can afford some manners. Say thank you.”

“Fuck.” Jaskier jerked at the sharp swat to his hip, his skin oversensitive and tingling.

“Language. _Thank you, Geralt._ ”

“...tha-thank you.”

“Geralt.”

“Thank you, Geralt.” Geralt smirked and got to his feet, cocking his head to one side with a devilish smirk. He crowded forward, hands tight on Julian’s shoulders. Julian tilted his face up, inviting, then grunted when the hands on his shoulders pushed him down to his knees.

“They teach you to suck cock at that fancy university of yours down the street?” Geralt’s thumb was stroking open Julian’s mouth, pressing heavily on his bottom lip until his teeth parted. “Or with a mouth like that, does it just come naturally?”

Julian didn’t have a good response for that, wrapping his lips around Geralt’s thumb with a low, hungry groan. He teased the pad with his teeth, enjoying the gasp it earned him in response.

“Does that mean you want to give _me_ a turn, then?” And fuck, that _voice_. It was like burnt sugar and melted butter, dark and sticky and going straight to Julian’s oversensitive cock. “Bet you’d come again just from me fucking your face, rich boy. You won’t have to work for it. Just keep your mouth open.”

“God, please.” Julan managed to grit out around Geralt’s thumb, shuddering as he dragged that slick digit along his jawline and down his chin.

“Don’t have to tell you not to bite, do I?” Geralt murmured in a soft parody of tenderness, undoing the buttons on his fly one by one. “Close your eyes.”

Julian did as he was told, feeling the hot throb of his own cock at the press of Geralt’s cock against his bottom lip, nudging his mouth open wider. And then it was there, hot and _thick_ and heavy, dragging slowly along his tongue in languid strokes. Julian moaned and heard an appreciative chuckle above him. “Greedy brat.” He purred, fingers tracing the shell of Julian’s ear. “That’s it. Just relax.” 

Julian was trying, but he could already feel the ache in his jaw, the breathless catch every time that length nudged the back of his throat. There was nothing he could do but lean his back against the wall, keep his mouth open, and enjoy the slow, deliberate slide between his lips. Geralt’s hands were everywhere - tightening in his hair, stroking over his jawline and throat, carefully tipping his chin up to adjust the angle. Massaging the ache out of his jaw before he could draw a breath to complain. Julian could hear, distantly, someone making hungry, low sounds. Greedy gasps for air, pleading groans, soft, ragged breaths. He realized they were coming from him. He lost sense of time and blinked when Geralt’s murmur broke through that warm, floating sensation, his mouth empty and strong fingers continuing to work the tension out of his jaw.

"Where do you keep your slick?"

"M-my what?" Julian managed through lips that were so overstimulated they felt numb. He opened his eyes slowly, gazing up at Geralt in a daze.

"Your slick." Geralt raised an eyebrow with a suggestive smirk, then pitched his voice in a mocking pantomime of country charm. "Oh please sir, be gentle with me for I've never taken a cock up the arse or given one. And I've certainly never used grease or oil to pleasure myself open when I was lonely and bored on the farm." He batted long lashes at Julian, then bent down, leaning close to his ear to snarl low. " _Slick_. Rich tosh like you, it's probably got gold fleck in it and makes you come like lightning."

“Bedroom. Bed- Drawer by the bed. Top drawer.” Julian tried to get to his feet, but somehow his legs hadn’t got the message. The press of his eager cock against the fine wool of his trousers was too distracting. He made a startled sound when Geralt lifted him bodily, hefting him easily and tossing him over one shoulder.

Julian wondered if the sacks of turnips - potatoes - whatever they were- had ever actually appreciated the broad shoulders they were settled over.

Geralt dumped him, none too gently, on the bed, and he sat there for a moment with his heart in his throat and his prick.

“Get your kit off.” Geralt growled low, his back to Julian. Julian heard the sound of his bedside drawer opening, and the huff of a soft unsurprised laugh when he found the glass toy in the drawer next to the slick. Julian’s ears and neck grew hot. “You use this when you can’t find your paid company, _Julian?_ ”

“...sometimes there’s an itch that needs to be scratched.” Julian managed, hands not moving towards his buttons. He cocked his head to one side with a lazy grin, resting his weight back on his hands. 

“You must do an awful lot of scratching,” Geralt said, amused. He was on Julian before he was aware of what was happening, and Julian found himself pressed up against his bedroom wall, a rough hand rucking up his shirt and vest. Blunt nails scratched over his stomach. “Considering how badly you want this.” 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Julian breathed against the paint with feeling as rough hands stripped him of his clothes. “Yes, yes, yes-” 

“You really thought you were going to be the first cock in my tender arse? That I wouldn’t notice how greedy you were for someone strong enough to give you what you need?”

A button hit the floor as his pants were torn down, and Julian was hard and more than ready again. “Fuck, please.” 

“How do you like it best, hm? You want my hand on your cock when you come? On your throat?” 

“Geralt, good fucking god, have mercy and fuck me, I’m going mad with this.” 

Geralt’s fingers were hot and thick, drawing a ragged gasp from Julian’s throat as they pressed in deep and slick. “Wanna make it good for you, Jaskier.” He purred against the back of Jaskier’s neck. “I know how much you like these games.”

“Oh, fuck-” Jaskier’s breath caught in his throat as he shuddered. 

“Remember, you’re a foulmouthed, rich prick-” The fingers twisted, making Jaskier moan wickedly. “-and you want to get what’s coming to you.” 

“...god, I thought that- I thought that you wanted me to deflower your sweet virgin ass tonight- I mean I’m not complai- _fuck- god- right there-_ ” 

“We’ve been together for years. That’s hardly virgin. And I like the way you moan when I press you against a wall like this.” Geralt nosed behind Jaskier’s ear, voice sweet and tender. He pressed his bulk firmly against Jaskier’s broad shoulders and soft back, a hand pressed tightly on his hip. “Want another one before I fuck you?”

“Yeah, please, even with that toy for prep, you’re still huge.” Jaskier glanced over his shoulder with a soft, tender smile, his mouth falling open and lids falling shut when Geralt obliged. “Oh, fuck, that’s perfect, thanks.” Jaskier’s voice was warm with laughter and pleasure.

“Want to keep going?” Geralt nipped sharply at Jaskier’s earlobe before pulling his face back.

“Fuck yeah, I want what’s coming to me.” Geralt’s touch instantly grew rougher.

“Tell me.” Geralt snarled in Julian’s ear, his tone taking on it’s earlier bite. “You want a big, rough, farm boy cock in you, Julian? Bet you’d love it in the country.”

“Fuck, I’m not paying you for-” Julian snapped back weakly.

“Beg me for it. Beg nicely, and I’ll bend you in half and fuck you ‘til you come dry.” Julian felt the blunt press of Geralt’s cock against his slick hole.

“Ah- _god-_ ” 

“Keep you in the fucking stable waiting for me on hands and knees-”

“Oh, _really_? Now that’s a bit much-” Jaskier's voice warmed with laughter, and he took a shaky breath. "Right, right, sorry, fuck, actually I like that image, keep going-"

“With a- with a fucking-” Geralt’s voice dissolved into laugher, his forehead pressed against Jaskier’s shoulder. “...bit between your teeth and a-”

“If you say saddle, I’m divorcing you.” Jaskier looked over his shoulder at Geralt with a delighted grin.

“A saddle on your back.” Geralt finished determinedly. 

“Thought you were going to bend me in half and fuck me ‘til I come dry?”

“Still keen on that?”

“Oh yeah. Flip me over though, I wanna see your face when you do.” Geralt’s hands were firm on Jaskier’s thighs as he lifted him easily. Jaskier’s back was pressed firmly against the wall, the backs of his knees over his broad shoulders. “Keep talking, just- skip the horse stuff.” 

“I like horses.” Geralt growled, biting back a laugh and sucking a dark bruise high on Jaskier’s neck. “And I like riding you until you buck me off. You never told me - hand on your cock, throat?”

“My cock. Too wound up for my throat.”

“Beg.”

“Please, fucking god, fuck me and make me come with your hand on my cock. Geralt, _please-_ ”

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” Geralt grunted, sliding home with one rough thrust that made Jaskier drop his head back against the wall. “God you’re such a spoiled brat sometimes-” He murmured lovingly against Jaskier’s lips.

“I’m your spoiled brat. With the best ideas. Oh, _fucking hell-_ ” Jaskier’s words cut off into an eager, filthy moan as Geralt’s angle shifted, driving into him in a way that made him buck his hips. “Fuck, there, theretherethere-”

“Don’t even need my hand on you, do you-” Geralt’s voice was sweet and sinful as he fucked into Jaskier, and Jaskier’s cock proved his point by dripping onto his bare stomach.

“ _Fuck-_ ”

“Gonna make a mess all over your stomach just from this.” 

“Geralt, _please-_ ”

“Best part about fucking your husband and not a stranger-” Geralt punctuated the words with a hard roll of his hips for each of the next words. “I know. What. You like. And how you like it _best_ -”

“Geralt I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come-” The words fell frantically from Jaskier’s lips, sharp, startled hisses as the pleasure built too rapidly to pull away from.

“Me too, just a little longer-” Geralt’s breath was hot and ragged in his ear. His teeth found Jaskier’s throat, sucking a dark mark just below his jaw. “Fuck, love you like this.” He moaned low and deep, burying himself as deep inside Jaskier’s body as he could, hips stuttering as he came.

“Love- love you- _fuck-_ ” Jaskier cried out sharply as he was overwhelmed by his own pleasure. A few moments later, he laughed breathlessly, touching the mark on his jaw. “Fuck, Geralt, my students-” 

“You can wear a scarf.” Geralt said with a laugh, withdrawing slowly and adjusting his hold under Jaskier’s hips.. Jaskier wrapped his legs tightly around Geralt’s waist, pulling him close and burying his face against his neck. 

“A scarf in April.”

“Mmhm.”

“Geralt, take me to bed please.” Jaskier sighed lazily, resting his cheek on Geralt’s shoulder. “I think I’m done.”

“It’s not two yet. I’m keeping the twenty.” Geralt gave him a more loving version of the devilish smirk from earlier, carrying Jaskier to the bed and laying down with him. He pulled the other man close against his chest, running his hands slowly through Jaskier’s hair. “It’s fine.” He pressed a soft, tender kiss to Jaskier’s forehead. “Thanks for tonight.”

“Mmm. Thank _you_. Tell me again?”

“You have the _best_ ideas. But I think I’ll stick with fucking my husband Jaskier over that rich snot Julian. He was only fun for a night.”

“Mm. Love you.”

“Love you too. Sleep for a bit, I’ll grab washcloths and some water in a few minutes.”


End file.
